


Mommy

by Rimbaum



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Divorce, Gen, Mommy Issues, Sadstuck, non-sburb AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 06:36:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rimbaum/pseuds/Rimbaum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is JOHN EGBERT, you are SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD, and you are still trying to figure out why your mother doesn't love you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is JOHN EGBERT and you are FIVE YEARS OLD. Mommy and Daddy are fighting, and you don't understand why! You're in the living room just playing with your magician set you got for your birthday when you hear Mommy scream at Daddy and slam the door. You always get yelled at for slamming the door, and you wonder why Daddy isn't doing the same to Mommy.

You look up at your Daddy, because you're confused and a little scared! You don't know what's going on, you just want your family to stop yelling at each other. Daddy sits down next to you on the floor and pulls you into a tight bearhug. You hug him back, because that's the only kind of response to give to being bearhugged by Daddy!

"Daddy, why are you and Mommy fighting?"

Daddy runs his hands through your hair, and you think maybe he's trying not to cry. Did Mommy hurt him?

"We won't be fighting anymore, John. But you might not see Mommy a lot anymore."

"How come?"

Now Daddy really is crying, and you reach up to rub the tears off his face. Daddies shouldn't cry. That's even scarier than seeing Mommies and Daddies fighting with each other.

"Mommy won't be living with us anymore, John."

"How come? Did Mommy hurt you, Daddy?"

This time, when Daddy gives you a bear hug, you do your best to pat his back like he does for you when you're upset.

"Yes, John. Yes she did."


	2. Chapter 2

Your name is JOHN EGBERT and you are SEVEN YEARS OLD. Today, you get to visit your MOM. You're really excited, because you hardly ever see her! She moved pretty far away a few years ago, and Dad says that sometimes her new job can bring her close by and you can meet for a few hours.

She always buys you a present. Sometimes, she brings you one from other parts of the country, where she flies for her business. You wonder what today's present is going to be.

When Dad drops you off at the restaurant you always meet Mom at, you spot her right away and run over to give her a hug. She smells like cigarettes and perfume. You don't like the cigarette smell as much as you like the smell of Dad's pipe tobacco, but it's familiar and comforting all the same.

Dad waves goodbye and Mom says she promises to drop you off at the house before it gets dark. Luckily, it's summertime and she won't have to worry about that until really late!

You spend an hour just talking about how you've been, finding out where Mom's gone for her new job, and picking at your usual order (chocolate chip pancakes, ever since the first time you met at this one restaurant) in between stories.

She takes you shopping. You stop and stare at the electronic keyboards that make all sorts of sounds. You've got a really nice upright piano at home, but one of these would be really cool to have, too! Mom asks if you want one, and you nod.

Maybe for Christmas, she says. You know when she says that, you're definitely going to get it. Christmas is a long ways away still, but you're just happy that you know what Mom's going to get you.

You're a little disappointed when she brings you back home after just a couple hours. It's nowhere near dark yet! You want to spend more time with Mom! Maybe she can take you to a museum or something, but you don't want to go back home yet.

She leans down, hugs you, and kisses your cheek before waving goodbye.

You wonder when the next time you're going to see her will be.


	3. Chapter 3

Your name is JOHN EGBERT, you are ELEVEN YEARS OLD, and you haven't heard anything from your mother in over TWO YEARS.

You last heard from her on your ninth birthday, when she gave you a call and said she'd be over as soon as she could. You waited eagerly, first for a week, then for a month, then for several more months. When Christmas rolled by and you still hadn't heard anything from her, you finally broke down crying.

It's not like you saw her that much, but that just made her few and far between visits all the more precious. You've never gone this long without at least a phone call. Some sort of acknowledgement that you still exist, that she still loves you.

Dad hasn't heard anything, either. It's like she's dropped off the face of the earth, he says. There's not even any confirmation that she's dead or reported missing, so you don't even have any kind of idea what's going on.

You wonder what you did wrong to push her away from you like that.

Is it because you're bullied at school? You've stood up to them, but they just gang up on you. Maybe it's because you play piano! That had always been Dad's idea, and you love playing the piano so much. But if stopping would bring your mom back, just for a little while, you'd give it up in a heartbeat.

All the little things your mother has bought for you since your parents got divorced have been stacked into a neat little corner. Most of them fit in a box, but that electric keyboard is on a stand in one corner. You gathered them up sometime last year, and every few days you take them out and look through them. This is all you have left of your mother right now.

It makes you angry. At her, for leaving you and Dad. At Dad, for not trying to work things out better with Mom. And most of all with yourself, because obviously you're just not good enough of a son for her to want to even bother contacting you.

If she doesn't want anything to do with you, then you don't need anything to do with her, either. You reach into the box, grabbing a book she bought you just after you turned eight. It's stupid and silly, but you've read it over and over again.

You rip it in half. The glue on the binding is so worn that it splits right down the spine. You tear several more pages out, because the only reason you've read this book so much is SHE bought it.

There's a snow globe from New York City. You throw it against the wall and your toes curl in delight when you hear the glass break.

Your eyes drift over to the keyboard, sitting innocently against the wall. You love that keyboard. You practice on it every day and experiment with different sounds. But SHE got it for you.

You stand up and walk over to it, wincing a little as you step on some of the broken glass from the snow globe. Your fingers dance over the white plastic keys, playing a few silent chords. Then you step back and yank the keyboard off its stand, throwing it on the floor and stomping on it.

You're not entirely sure when Dad comes in and pulls you away from destroying the things SHE gave you, and you're not entirely sure how you end up curled on his lap and crying into his shoulder.


End file.
